


Red

by Cheol_Apple



Category: Mobile Legends: Bang Bang (Video Game)
Genre: Alunger, Angst, Character Death, Colors, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sad Ending, i hurt myself writing this so i'm sharing it with all of you, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24601066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheol_Apple/pseuds/Cheol_Apple
Summary: Red is an ugly color.To Alucard, at least. He hated red for so long—it felt, afterwards, when he became a Demon Hunter, that his color should be blue. The color of calm, of peace, of water. Everything red stood against. If he had his way he'd never look at red again.Then Granger came along and ruined his plans.
Relationships: Alucard/Granger (Mobile Legends: Bang Bang)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> look what i do instead of finishing my wips.
> 
> might be the last fic for a while since i have online class starting tomorrow
> 
> also Alunger is rapidly overtaking my main ship (sorry Graude ;_; i promise to give you more love)

Red is an ugly color.

To Alucard, at least. Red is the color of blood, freshly spilt, pooling from gashes and wounds, trickling over demon corpses, tarnishing his sword, reminds him of the debt every inhuman being must pay, the unpayable amount being the lives of his parents—

Red is the color of hell, of the Abyss he only knew briefly but left a lasting impression anyways. It is the color of the acrid clouds of smoke he choked on, the color trickling underneath tar and mud and lava, the hue of the false sky above him, reminding him he was not safe, he was not home, he was _nowhere near alright—_

Red is the color of his own veins. Not the healthy ones of course, he was not educated by nobility for nothing—but every time he took off his gauntlet, every time he was forced to see a reminder of his hellish suffering, that was what he saw underneath his skin—red roots clawing their way up angrily to his shoulder, like the fangs of a monster that had not had its fill.

It was easier to look at than his actual arm, anyways.

Alucard hated red for so long—it felt, afterwards, when he became a Demon Hunter, that his color should be blue—his coat, his sword. It was the color of his eyes, after all. The color of calm, of peace, of water. Everything red stood against. If he had his way he'd never look at red again.

Then Granger came along and ruined his plans.

It was strategic, tactical almost. When you want to indoctrinate someone into changing their mind, you don't necessarily surprise them. No, you take baby steps, you change their perception one idea at a time—small hints until you get the big picture, until change is easier to accept.

Granger was never wholly red, Alucard had never thought of him that way. If anything, the marksman was a solid black, from his clothing, to his hair, to his demeanor; it screamed of darkness, of solitude, of the void and mystery Granger appeared to be.

Alucard isn't ashamed to admit he has looked into this void and tried to solve the mystery a couple of times.

But that was when he started noticing the red again.

The red of Granger's scarf—he always tied it haphazardly, carelessly, as though it was done at the last minute (and with the length of time the marksman takes to wind bandages, it probably was). It used to bother Alucard that he tied it this way, until the day finally came that he started tying it for himself, a gesture that became a habit, a habit that became a hobby. The red scarf tied neatly around the collar meant Granger was cared for, that someone was looking out for him. Alucard was the tiniest bit proud (read: the largest amount of proud) that this someone was him.

Red was the color of Granger's eyes—did the musician even realize how rare this eye color was? How it fit him so well? How bizarrely and spectacularly it gleamed on a golden sunset, burnishing vermillion and flame? Alucard used to think it looked like blood, congealed blood, the comparison even easier to do when they're out killing demons. But when Granger smiled—as rare as a blood moon (another red thing Alucard doesn't like, but due to a certain musician learned to tolerate)—his eyes smiled on their own too, somehow. The red was less like blood—more like a sunbird's wings—brilliant and fluttering, beautiful yet fleeting. And when they glaze over— _gods,_ when they glaze over—the red is the red of rubies, rubies royalties could only ever hope to possess, their sparkle comparable to the evening stars. Granger leans over him, and they are inches apart, and his eyes are darkened, and the red is that of wine—smooth, sweet, gentle. Sensual, even. Alucard could get lost in that red.

Red was the color of Granger's lips, the first red he never thought twice about adoring, loving, _worshipping_ immediately, they were like a rose, soft, and tender, his kisses even more so—

Red was the color of his cheeks on a wintry day, shivering until Alucard puts an arm around him, Granger grumbling "Get off me," and Alucard replying "But you like it," the marksman not deigning him with an answer, the deepening blush does the job for him—

Red is the color of the marks he leaves on Granger's neck. And shoulders. And chest. And hips. And—

Red is the color Granger leaves on him too, bruises where his fingers trail, where they press for _just a bit too long_ , crescent marks on his shoulder when everything is too much, _come with me, I'll follow you anywhere—_

Red is the color of the tiny stone on the ring that Alucard picks out—it is a bloodstone, and the irony is not lost on him when he finds out, he would've chosen a ruby had he figured out sooner, but the tears that fill Granger's eyes make everything worth it, so does the choked out "Yes", and the urgent pull on his arms as the marksman draws him into a kiss, and when they let go, Alucard thinks _What the heck_ , he doesn't need rubies anymore when he can see them in his _fiancé’s_ eyes—

Red is the color of the sky, an angry, blistering sunset, when he and Granger stumble upon a nest of demons, and they work as a team—they always have, that was what they're good at, they know each other inside and out, can anticipate the other's moves, almost like a dance—

Red is the color of the demons' eyes, but they're not the red Alucard loves, they're sinister, and cruel, and they remind him of his horrible, _horrible_ childhood, and he wants to kill them all, he wants them all _dead_ , and why weren't their numbers decreasing, why won't they _leave—_

Red is the color of Granger's blood, made perfectly clear by the white of his bandages, and Alucard isn't surprised, after all every human has _red_ blood, no, what surprised him was that Granger was hurt in the first place—he was wounded, he was injured, he could _die_ , Granger, _no—_

Red is the color of Granger's eyes. Wait, he's said that before, but he wants to imprint it in his memory, one last time—

Red is the color of Granger's lips—again, he's repeating himself, but what would he do just for time to repeat itself over and over again, all to prevent the nightmare that time was allowing to happen, never mind that his beloved was in extreme pain, as long as he's _alive—_ those red lips reach up to kiss him, and his lips reply in turn, funny, how he could kiss Granger every night, how every kiss was met with whispers, moans, mewls, but he felt that he had never kissed Granger with as much passion until now—

Red is the color of the blood Alucard accidentally smears on Granger's cheek, obscuring the red of his cheeks, the red that Alucard prefers, as Granger tells him that "It's okay, everything will be okay, I love you, Alucard, I always have, always will—“

"I love you too," Alucard replies, through the pain, through the haze, which also looks suspiciously red—“I love you, so, so much—please—don't leave me—“

Red is the color of Granger's scarf—he fixates on it as the marksman's chest heaves their last, as the air in his lungs make their final exit, as the hand in Alucard's becomes limp.

Alucard sees red afterwards. Make of that what you will.

Red is a bittersweet color.

To Alucard, at least. It was the color that brought him the deepest sorrow and suffering; it was the color that brought him to the heights of love and happiness.

He doesn't wear a lick of it, either; he chose to drown in blue.

Save for the ring on his finger. Bloodstone.

Sometimes (read: all the time), he wishes it were a ruby.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe, everyone! Wash your hands always and practice social distancing!
> 
> comments and kudos are well-appreciated as always :)
> 
> (for updates and other stupid stuff follow me on ig @cheol_apple)


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